I was always hiding in the next room trying to escape the blows. Though it was mother who took them, I felt them all the same.
I was just a child given only to prayers that God would kill father and free mother.
Many years passed, but the blows remained. I had to stand up for mother who would rather die than leave.
The next time father raised his hand against mother, I stopped his hand mid-air.
Looking into his shocked eyes, I felt the urge to do what God had refused.
He got the message… Mother became free.

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